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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437302">(know you’re gonna) lose</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101'>kopycat_101</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nathmarc November [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Bittersweet Ending, Butterfly Effect, Character Death, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Depression, Established Relationship, Five Stages of Grief, Found Family, Friendship, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth Identity Reveal, Gen, Good Teacher Caline Bustier, Grief/Mourning, Hawkmoth Defeat, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Minor Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Minor Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Moving On, Nathaniel and Alix are Childhood Best Friends, No Lila Rossi Redemption, Other, Teen Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:42:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“H-He’s d-d-dead…Right?” Nathaniel manages to warble out, hand gripping Alix’s like a lifeline.</em>
</p><p>  <em>The way his Homeroom teacher’s eyes water and she looks down, unable to meet his eyes, is all the confirmation he needs.</em></p><p>  <em>“I’m sorry, Nathaniel…” the woman whispers.</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p>Marc Anciel dies. Nathaniel Kurtzberg grieves. A butterfly flaps its wings. Hawkmoth's days are numbered.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Classmates, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Alix Kubdel &amp; Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Aurore Beauréal &amp; Mireille Caquet &amp; Jean Duparc, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug &amp; Classmates, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug &amp; Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nathaniel Kurtzberg &amp; Classmates, Nathaniel Kurtzberg &amp; Lê Chiến Kim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nathmarc November [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(know you’re gonna) lose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Nathmarc November Day 7: Lost.</p><p>I went absolutely feral on this prompt. I ended up writing nearly 6k of an AU, exploring death, grief, and the butterfly effect.</p><p>Hopefully everything you need to understand is in the fic itself. If things don't make sense, I've also added some end notes about this AU to hopefully clear some questions up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>“<em>Les consequences vécu</em><em>,</em><em><br/>
</em><em>Répète et répète jusqu'au au sommeil</em><em>,<br/>
</em><em>Personne ne reste</em>.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m cold,” Nathaniel whines, trying to burrow into his boyfriend’s side, seeking some form of warmth.</p><p> </p><p>Marc giggles. “That’s what happens when you don’t wear a jacket in August, Nath.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I wouldn’t need one today,” the redhead grumbles, burying his face in the other’s neck. Marc is warm, and his skin smells nice. Was that weird to think? Or was the artist just so ridiculously in love, he thought everything about the writer was amazing?</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel hears a zip, and then suddenly Marc was wrapping him up in his hoodie like it was a blanket, pressing their torsos together. The redhead finds his breath hitching, cautiously and shyly peeking up at the other.</p><p> </p><p>“Here. I’ll keep you warm,” the raven-haired boy laughs, emerald eyes gleaming bright, a smile of pure fondness on his pink lips. The artist ducks his head again, stomach fluttering and cheeks going warm, so overwhelmingly euphoric he felt drunk from it.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel stays like that, cuddled into his boyfriend, leeching his warmth and basking in their closeness. When they finally part to go home, Marc shucks off his hoodie and hands it to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Just remember to return it tomorrow,” his boyfriend says with a kind smile. Nathaniel stops and stares, breathless and flushing, eyes riveted on Marc’s angular form and bare arms, no longer swamped by the red material.</p><p> </p><p>“Th-thanks,” Nathaniel says shyly, looking down and putting on the jacket. It was big on him, and super warm. Soft, too.</p><p> </p><p>Marc leans down and pecks him on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“S-See you,” Nathaniel squeaks, face flushed and heart hammering.</p><p> </p><p>When Nathaniel gets home, he buries his face in the hoodie, face on fire as he breaths in the scent of his boyfriend embedded in the material. Fabric softener, Marc’s lavender shampoo, and some musky smell that’s one hundred percent <em>Marc</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He lets himself get lost in the warmth and smell, giggles bubbling up from his stomach and past his lips like champagne. Marc was so sweet and gentlemanly. It’s romantic. And as a huge romantic, Nathaniel was more than appreciative of this.</p><p> </p><p>If he falls asleep in his pjs with Marc’s jacket thrown over, just so he can feel close to Marc, well. His boyfriend wouldn’t know.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel usually texts Marc into the night. This night, his boyfriend doesn’t respond to his message.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel thought nothing of it. Maybe Marc got caught up in writing. It happened sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>He goes to sleep and wakes the next morning excited to see his boyfriend at school. The two always meet up before classes. It was one of the few times they could hang out, other than lunch, since they didn’t share any classes. And seeing Marc before classes was always an incredible way to motivate Nathaniel to drag himself out of bed and into the cold, cruel world at large.</p><p> </p><p>But when the artist gets to school, his boyfriend isn’t by the lockers. Or in Mendeleiev’s Homeroom. Or near Bustier’s class either.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel sends a text. No response. Maybe he had a busy morning? Or he accidentally forgot to charge his phone?</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel shakes the growing wariness off as best he can, moving towards the teacher’s lounge in one last-ditch effort to find his boyfriend. Maybe Marc was talking to a teacher before classes about an assignment, like the diligent student he was.</p><p> </p><p>Except when he nears the teacher’s lounge, he pauses outside the door, peering into the little window. The teachers are all there, whispering to each other. Grim looks on their faces.</p><p> </p><p>Mendeleiev is in the middle of all of them. The woman’s usually tall and proud stance is different. Her shoulders are slumped, body curled in, arms wrapped around herself. Instead of tall and intimidating, her posture makes her look small. Almost defeated or<em> scared</em>, even.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we supposed to say…?” Nathaniel hears Miss Bustier ask. “Should we—”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll have to have a school-wide meeting in the auditorium. This will affect all the students,” Mr. Damocles says, voice grave and bushy brows furrowed. “The…well. The death of a student, and so sudden…”</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel is frozen in place, heart jackrabbiting in his ribs, dread and fear welling up. Death of a student…?</p><p> </p><p>Ms. Mendeleiev claps a hand over her mouth and sobs, a loud and heart-wrenching sound.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel is promptly terrified to his core. Ms. Mendeleiev is a strong and intimidating woman. She never showed vulnerability or sadness. She wasn’t—this wasn’t—</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel finds himself backing away from the door, feeling sick.</p><p> </p><p>He claps a hand over his mouth and runs to the bathroom. He stumbles through the door, eyes blurring with tears and panic. He ignores his surroundings, finding the nearest open stall. And then he promptly leans over and dry heaves into one of the toilets, tears leaking from his eyes, fingers spasming on the porcelain.</p><p> </p><p>Someone was dead. Oh God. Oh <em>God</em> someone was—</p><p> </p><p>Marc.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel finds himself sliding down on his knees, tears redoubling their journey down his cheeks, a sob choking his throat.</p><p> </p><p>He’s panicking. He knows he is. He’s worried that he hasn’t heard from Marc, but that—That didn’t mean Marc was dead, <em>right</em>…? It can’t. Marc was—Marc was <em>fine</em>, and Nathaniel was over-reacting, that’s all.</p><p> </p><p>But something in his gut said that he was right. And he lets himself break.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That’s how Alix and Ivan find him. Collapsed in the boy’s bathroom, hunched over a toilet in one of the stalls, unraveling and barely finished with a panic attack.</p><p> </p><p>Of course Alix is in the boy’s bathroom, just to check up on Nathaniel. Of <em>course</em> she is. That’s just like her, so ridiculously and bullheadedly stubborn.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel takes one look at his best friend’s grim face and sad eyes, and he bursts into tears all over again.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s take you to the Nurse’s office,” Ivan offers, awkward and gentle, placing a hand on the artist’s shoulder and crouching down so he’s not as tall and intimidating. “C’mon, let’s go. Miss Bustier gave us permission.”</p><p> </p><p>Alix grabs onto the artist’s arm and bodily hauls him up. Nathaniel clings to her, feeling Ivan’s hand still on his shoulder, a warm and heavy weight that helps guide him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Miss Bustier appears in the entrance of the Nurse’s office sometime later—how long has it been? A few minutes? An hour? Nathaniel doesn’t know— her face is somber, eyes rimmed red.</p><p> </p><p>“H-He’s d-d-dead…Right?” Nathaniel manages to warble out, hand gripping Alix’s like a lifeline.</p><p> </p><p>The way his Homeroom teacher’s eyes water and she looks down, unable to meet his eyes, is all the confirmation he needs.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Nathaniel…” the woman whispers.</p><p> </p><p>And Nathaniel breaks again.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Papa Kubdel comes to pick up Nathaniel and Alix.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel’s never felt so fucking exhausted in his entire life. All he’s done for three hours straight is cry, and he feels like it <em>still</em> isn’t enough to express his genuine, raw, unabashed grief.</p><p> </p><p>With trembling fingers, he clutches at Alix’s hand in one, and in the other fists the material of Marc’s hoodie. The hoodie Nathaniel never got the chance to return.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel doesn’t want to go back to school.</p><p> </p><p>The school had a half day, and let off the rest of the week because of the tragic news of—of—</p><p> </p><p>That gives Nathaniel Thursday, Friday, and the rest of the weekend to grieve. But it doesn’t feel like enough to him. He lost his boyfriend. He lost one of his best friends. He lost his partner. He lost—</p><p> </p><p>It isn’t enough time. Nathaniel knows he’ll be expected to go back to school despite it all, but it’s <em>not enough time</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He would hole himself up in his room, in his apartment, letting himself waste away. But Alix and Papa Kubdel and Jalil—they won’t let that happen.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel is going to be staying with them. Nathaniel’s Dad is off on a business trip for another month, and his Mom doesn’t even live in France. The Kubdels are the closest thing he has to family.</p><p> </p><p>Alix lets Nathaniel burrow into her arms and cry against her. Sometimes she cries with him, unable to form words and sharing the bone-deep ache with him. Sometimes she tries to comfort him, murmuring in his hair and rocking him back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I w-wish—I wish—” Nathaniel chokes out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry,” Alix whispers into Nathaniel’s hair, her tears making it humid, as she shakes while trying to keep herself together, for his sake.</p><p> </p><p>Alix was friends with Marc. Not just because Marc was dating Nathaniel, but because she was Marc’s friend before the two comic-creators got together. She genuinely likes Marc, and was probably the next-closest person to Marc alongside Marinette.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I wish he was here with us too,” Alix whispers in a waterlogged voice, voice breaking into a little sob, and Nathaniel just holds her closer.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel feels…lost.</p><p> </p><p>His faith is shaken, too. Out of all fucking things to happen…All the terrorist attacks, the constant danger Paris was in on a daily basis…This tragedy didn’t happen because of an Akuma.</p><p> </p><p>A car crash. A normal car crash killed Marc and his moms. <em>A car crash</em>, of all fucking things.</p><p> </p><p>Something so mundane, so <em>common</em>…</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel presses the heels of his hands against the backs of his eyelids, half-wishing he would open his eyes again to complete darkness.</p><p> </p><p>He hasn’t stopped sleeping with Marc’s hoodie on. Has barely taken it off, in fact. It still smells like Marc, still <em>feels</em> like him, and—and Nathaniel just can’t <em>abandon</em> it. It’s one of the few things he still has left of his boyfriend, concrete and physical. A reminder.</p><p> </p><p>Sobs rip past his sore throat, tears slicking the skin of his hands. Even exhausted from constant crying, he just. Can’t. Stop.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel didn’t just lose his boyfriend. He lost his other half. He lost someone he wanted to spend the entire rest of his life with.</p><p> </p><p>He lost his hope.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel misses a week and a half of school to his grief.</p><p> </p><p>Alix stays with him in solidarity, trying to gently coax him to try and go to class. But on the Monday after next, she finally drags his ass out of bed with a determined expression on her face and bratty orders on her lips.</p><p> </p><p>It’s easy, to follow Alix’s lead. He’s always done it, ever since they were toddlers. Alix, bold and active and extroverted, dragging him along for the ride.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel showers, and he eats breakfast, and he gets in the car with Alix, Jalil at the wheel. They get dropped off in front of DuPont, Jalil staring at them in concern, blue eyes bordered by his glasses and dark with sympathy.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel grabs onto Alix’s hand in a death grip. She lets him do it, using their interlinked hands to drag him forwards, towards the entrance. The artist tries to keep his breathing even. He’s…going back to school. Nothing else to it. Just going back to school.</p><p> </p><p>The instant they enter, he ducks his head. Soon enough, he feels everyone’s eyes on him. He’s not sure if he’s just imagining or not. He doesn’t want to check to find out.</p><p> </p><p>Alix marches forwards, bringing him along.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel is all too aware of them entering Bustier’s Homeroom, because all the noise instantly stops, as if sucked out by a vacuum. It’s so damningly quiet, you could hear a pin drop.</p><p> </p><p>And then there’s the loud scraping of chairs. He sees Rose’s pale hands first, her nails with chipped pink nail polish gripping on his arms before she brings him into a tight hug.</p><p> </p><p>A hand on his shoulder, Juleka’s long mane of hair in his peripheries.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel is silent through it all, trying to keep his tears under control through steady breathing. But after Rose lets go, Juleka gives him a quick hug, following her girlfriend’s lead. And then there’s Marinette, arms tight and strong and her bluebell eyes swimming with barely held-back tears. And Ivan is there, pulling him into a big bear hug, and then there’s Mylene with a soft hug, and then Kim’s picking him up right off his toes. And then there’s Max rubbing his back, and Nino slinging an arm around his opposite shoulder, and even Alya’s bringing him in for a hug despite them not being particularly close.</p><p> </p><p>At some point, the artist starts crying. He doesn’t make a sound, just keeps trying to breathe through it all as tears stream down his cheeks. Touched by the support from his friends, his classmates.</p><p> </p><p>Adrien hugs him last, arms strong and tight around him, and he whispers quietly in Nathaniel’s ear, “I lost my Mom too.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>No one really judges Nathaniel for crying in class and needing to step out.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone is very sweet and helpful. Rose gives Nathaniel water, and Marinette has cookies, and Max spares him tissues. Alix switched seats with Lila, the Italian acquiescing quickly, his best friend now sitting next to him like a guard dog.</p><p> </p><p>Chloe and Sabrina have kept their mouths shut. Other than a glance from Chloe and a few worried looks from Sabrina, neither the queen bee blonde nor her lackey-slash-friend have made a comment on Nathaniel’s weakness.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, even Chloe Bourgeoise has standards.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel feels…loved and supported. Everyone is so understanding, or at least, are trying to be. Chloe and Sabrina awkwardly ignoring him is for the best, and others like Lila and Mylene are trying to give him space as well. Rose and Kim are on the opposite side of the scale, well-intentioned, if smothering. And overall, no one wants to try and talk to him about Marc, but that’s fine, because Nathaniel isn’t even ready to talk anyways.</p><p> </p><p>During class, in the middle of struggling to pay attention, Nathaniel finds himself glancing at Adrien sometimes. The blond’s words are stuck in his mind. “<em>I lost my Mom too</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>But that’s a mystery for another time.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel knows he needs to talk to people. He can’t just stop living. Can’t just start wasting away, becoming a shell of a person.</p><p> </p><p>But it was hard. He just…He just wanted…</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel wanted Marc back, but that was never happening. So the next best thing was to not forget about him. Even if it hurt Nathaniel like he was being cut open by a dozen rusty knives. Even if life felt like a slog, like a haze, like it would never be as bright or beautiful without Marc in it.</p><p> </p><p>More than anything, Nathaniel just felt…lost. And tired. He wrecked some shit and got his anger out early on, but now he was just left with this…void in his chest. A void that needed to be filled, but <em>couldn’t</em></p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel’s never really…<em>lost</em> anyone before. Like this. His parents divorced, so he rarely sees his Mom, but she was still alive. She could visit more, if she really wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Papa Kubdel has. Lost someone, that is. He lost his wife. Jalil lost his mother at a young age, younger than Nathaniel was now. Alix never knew her Mom.</p><p> </p><p>At the very least, the redhead feels <em>safe</em> with the Kubdels. Familiar. Safe, and familiar, and understood. But he didn’t want to really…talk with anyone else. At least, until he was back in class, surrounded by his classmates.</p><p> </p><p>His classmates, he finds he can handle. They’ve all suffered through a lot in general, being under constant attack by a literal magical terrorist. That builds a strong bond and sense of understanding, through shared trauma.</p><p> </p><p>So his scope of people grows, adding his classmates and Miss Bustier to the people he’s willing to talk with.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know if he can handle going to Art Club just yet—too many memories, too much of Marc there—but when he went to art class the first day back, Mr. Carracci had gently pulled him aside.</p><p> </p><p>“If you need anything from me, Nathaniel, just ask. If you need more of an extended deadline, or to step out, or anything of the sort. Alright?”</p><p> </p><p>The redhead adds Mr. Carracci on the list as well, the art teacher’s gentle and paternal nature a soothing balm. But Nathaniel decidedly can’t handle anyone else, he finds.</p><p> </p><p>Aurore and Mireille and Jean—they were Marc’s friends, from Mendeleiev’s Homeroom. They wanted to talk to Nathaniel a few times, but he just. He couldn’t. He kept turning on his heel and walking away from them the second he saw them in the halls.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t ready. And he’s not sure when he’ll ever be.</p><p> </p><p>He just needs a little more time…</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel stares down at his hands, fiddling with the overlong sleeves of the red hoodie. Marc’s hoodie.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t want to look up at the pitying gaze of the woman sitting across from him. His…therapist. Grief counselor. Whatever the fuck she was supposed to be.</p><p> </p><p>At least Dupont was paying for his therapy. God knows Miss Bustier and their sad excuse for a guidance counselor at school couldn’t manage it, despite their attempts. They were lucky Nathaniel hasn’t been Akumatized daily, after…</p><p> </p><p>Well. Maybe Hawkmoth has some sort of mercy after all. Or maybe Nathaniel’s BPD made it so Hawkmoth just plain ignored him, so he was also ignoring Nathaniel’s sudden surge of grief as well.</p><p> </p><p>Either way, Nathaniel was here to get ‘professional help’. He’s not sure how much it’ll help…but he can’t keep burdening Papa Kubdel and Alix and Jalil with his grief, either.</p><p> </p><p>It’s hard. It’s <em>so</em> fucking hard. But he needs to…to keep living…</p><p> </p><p>So he lets out a breath, and starts to talk, answering the woman’s questions.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The first thing his father does when he gets back from his business trip is bring Nathaniel into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, son. I’m sorry. I should’ve been here sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel wants to rage at his father, ask him why he wasn’t there when he was falling apart, wants to scream and shriek until he rips all his vocal chords out.</p><p> </p><p>But he’s tired of hating others. He’s tired of being bitter.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he hugs his Papa back and sobs in pure relief as he sinks into the comforting and warm embrace.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel stares down at the half-finished comic lying innocently on his desk.</p><p> </p><p>Oh. He’d…almost forgotten about that.</p><p> </p><p>Grief hits him like a punch to the gut.</p><p> </p><p>He almost wants to tear the pages to shreds, seeing the familiar hero designs of Revisionist and Mightillustrator on their white canvases. The Akuma forms of Marc and Nathaniel that they decided to turn into heroes, heroes that fought alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir. Heroes that were in love, an inseparable pair.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel couldn’t keep creating this comic. Not without Marc. He had to cut his publishing contract short because of Marc’s sudden death.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of tearing apart the pages or throwing them away, Nathaniel instead sighs and places them in his desk drawer.</p><p> </p><p>He’s…He’s not ready. Not yet.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He gets a phone call from his mother, the first time in months.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, my little lamb.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Are you</em>?” Nathaniel thinks, but doesn’t say.</p><p> </p><p>But he can’t keep being bitter about people worrying about him. His therapist says that’s not healthy.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, he whispers into the receiver, “Thanks, Mom…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Ladybug and Chat Noir are working tirelessly to catch Hawkmoth.</p><p> </p><p>Not that they weren’t before. But the heroes are patrolling more often, as of the past month and change. They’re also much more aggressive when it comes to taking down Akuma. Especially Ladybug, who’s blue eyes were ferocious. Like she was in grief, like she was broken and tired and ready to end Hawkmoth once and for all.</p><p> </p><p>Chat Noir was no slouch either. He lessened his jokes and quips, his cock-sure attitude fading away over time. He nearly matched Ladybug in ferocity, cat-eyes sharp and filled with a similar kind of grief.</p><p> </p><p>They were being more <em>proactive</em>, Nathaniel realizes. Before, the heroes would only show up to stop Akuma after they were already triggered. But now, they seemed determined to look for clues, to sniff out Hawkmoth, where his possible hiding place could be.</p><p> </p><p>They add in other heroes to their patrols as well. Carapace and Rena Rouge are permanent members now. An occasional other person will appear as well, like Viperion or Roi Singe or Pegasus. They even let Chloe as Queen Bee on patrols with them.</p><p> </p><p>They’re preparing for a fight, the artist realizes. A final confrontation.</p><p> </p><p>A small, vicious part of Nathaniel that cries for Hawkmoth’s blood hopes the heroes beat the absolute <em>shit</em> out of him. For everyone in Paris that he’s terrorized.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“<em>Look at the lights,</em></p><p>
  <em>Look at the city,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who’s gonna be here,</em>
</p><p><em>When everybody dies?</em>”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Ms. Mendeleiev is oddly quiet and subdued in her classes. She was a no-nonsense and taciturn teacher, but never this <em>quiet</em>. She hasn’t called on Nathaniel once since…</p><p> </p><p>It’s ironic, really. Nathaniel’s always wished to be ignored by the intimidating woman, the woman who taught his worst subject and had a hand in Akumatizing him. A teacher he was deeply terrified of.</p><p> </p><p>And the only way he was getting out of her scrutiny was because his boyfriend fucking died, and she’d taught Marc. Hah.</p><p> </p><p>If Nathaniel starts to cry silent tears from his seat in the back during that lesson, well. Everyone’s learned to just ignore it by now. But at the end of class, Marinette hands him a handkerchief with a sad and understanding smile.</p><p> </p><p>Shadows are all but stamped under her eyes. The half-Chinese girl looks exhausted and like she needed a good nap. But she was still ready to comfort him, because that was what Marinette did, who she was as a person.</p><p> </p><p>It suddenly hits Nathaniel that he’s not the only one effected by Marc’s death.</p><p> </p><p>He knew this. Marc was friends with everyone in Art Club. And he was friends with the other guys in Nathaniel’s Homeroom as well, alongside being well-received by the girls in their class. And he had his own friends in Mendeleiev’s class as well.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel had been so caught up in his own grief…He’d forgotten that others were grieving as well.</p><p> </p><p>Well, not anymore. He was…He was going to give back, a little. Give back to his friends that supported him and knew Marc.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s gonna be alright,” Marinette whispers when Nathaniel finishes drying his eyes, patting his hand. He grabs her hand before she can retract it.</p><p> </p><p>“I-It will,” he says with a nod, looking steadily into her bluebell eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The girl stares back at him, shocked, before she gives a wobbly smile, sincere and soft. “It will,” she agrees, firmer, with a nod of her own. She stands a little taller, a little more resolute. Stands like the everyday Ladybug their Homeroom knows her as.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel feels a seed of hope bloom in his chest.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Nathaniel…”</p><p> </p><p>The redhead stiffens, turning around.</p><p> </p><p>It’s Aurore again. With Mireille and Jean.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we talk?” Aurore asks, clasping hands with both Mireille and Jean. The trio look tense, and hopeful, and expectant.</p><p> </p><p>“Please?” Mireille asks softly.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a few minutes,” Jean adds with an awkward smile.</p><p> </p><p>The redhead takes in a breath, and lets it out slowly, fully turning to face the trio.</p><p> </p><p>No more running.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel cries again, in the ensuing talk with Marc’s friends. They all cry together for like, two hours.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel feels exhausted afterwards, but…accomplished. Lighter, even.</p><p> </p><p>He gets some waterlogged smiles for his troubles, and three new numbers to add to his contact list.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Dude. You should totally draw what Hawkmoth looks like.”</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel blinks up at Kim, who’s leaning over his shoulder, looking at his sketchbook. “Wh…What?” the redhead croaks out, eyes flickering between the jock and his drawings.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, c’mon!” Kim nods, insisting, voice bright and light. “Maybe you can guess what the guy looks like under that condom mask of his.”</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel can’t help it. He laughs.</p><p> </p><p>He feels it swell up from his chest, spilling past his lips. He laughs and laughs, until his stomach aches, a full-on belly laugh. Kim is staring down at him, an awed and proud grin on his face, amber eyes gleaming with relief.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe,” Nathaniel ends up saying quietly, with a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the first time he’s laughed this freely since Marc’s death. It feels…bittersweet.</p><p> </p><p>He’s glad he hasn’t lost the ability to laugh forever.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel finally gives in and washes Marc’s hoodie. It was starting to smell badly, after him wearing it for so long.</p><p> </p><p>Now it smells…Clean. No scent of Marc whatsoever.</p><p> </p><p>But it feels comforting instead of damning. A clean slate.</p><p> </p><p>And a little piece of Nathaniel feels itself mend.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“<em>You’re being brave,</em></p><p>
  <em>But we know,</em>
</p><p><em>That you’re afraid</em>.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Hawkmoth is captured. He’s finally lost.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel finds himself laughing hysterically, watching the news with Alix, their hands interlocked in a death grip, knuckles white. “They finally fucking did it,” he whispers in awe, ferociously proud.</p><p> </p><p>Hawkmoth and his right hand, Mayura, are prostrated on their knees, held down by the heroes of Paris.</p><p> </p><p>And then Hawkmoth is unmasked, revealed to be <em>Gabriel fucking Agreste</em>, of all people. The entirety of Paris seems to hold its breath, in that moment.</p><p> </p><p>Chat Noir, who’s bleeding profusely from his side and propped up on Viperion’s shoulder, literally collapses onto his knees with a scream so loud and feral, it rattles Nathaniel’s bones.</p><p> </p><p>This seems to shake the other Heroes out of their shocked state.</p><p> </p><p>Carapace starts shrieking obscenities, lunging forwards and looking ready to bash the fashion tycoon’s skull in with his shield. Rena Rouge and Queen Bee hold him back, but only just, disgusted snarls on their faces.</p><p> </p><p>The new dragon hero, Ryuko, looks ready to stalk towards the man. A horrified Roi Singe and a grim Pegasus flank her, grabbing her shoulders, creating a sort of cage around the vaguely familiar-looking woman who used to be Mayura. Ryuko grits her teeth and re-aligns her sword, brandishing it towards the captured villainess’ neck, while glaring over at Hawkmoth with pure venom.</p><p> </p><p>Ladybug meanwhile looks absolutely <em>furious</em>, blue eyes like flames, baring her teeth like she wanted to rip the man’s throat out with them. “Gabriel Agreste, formerly known as Hawkmoth, you’re under arrest,” she declares, tightening her yoyo around him, causing the affluent man to wheeze in pain.</p><p> </p><p>And all of Paris cheers.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a cacophony of noise from the streets as people start to shriek and cry and holler in relief.</p><p> </p><p>But Alix and Nathaniel are stock-still and silent, staring at the screen with wide eyes, realizing just what this meant for their friend and classmate.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The next day at school, police cars are at the north entrance. Officers escort Lila out of the building, and the girl is shrieking rapid-fire obscenities in Italian while sobbing loudly.</p><p> </p><p>A bedraggled and satisfied-looking Marinette watches, Chloe standing next to her, looking just as grimly satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>By the time lunch rolls around, Alya’s pulled up the news on her phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Young model Lila Rossi has been arrested for aiding and abetting Gabriel Agreste, the terrorist formerly known as Hawkmoth,” Nadja Chamack’s familiar voice says through the phone’s tiny speakers, as the class gathers around the blogger. “Through the testimony of certain witnesses, she has been detained in a detention center to await further trial.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess that’s what happens, when you rub elbows with Hawkmoth,” Alya says grimly, wearing a grimace of disgust. “I’m glad I deleted those videos from the Ladyblog with her…”</p><p> </p><p>“Traitor,” Nino nods along, voice quietly furious, face a grim and completely uncharacteristic expression and hand white-knuckled where he places it on his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Traitor and a <em>liar</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel…feels sick. Absolutely sick and <em>disgusted</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He sat next to Lila for an entire semester and a half…He sat next to a fucking <em>terrorist</em>…He sat next to her and listened to all her lies…</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine, dude. You didn’t know,” Kim sighs, gently patting Nathaniel’s head. The artist realizes that he’d said all that aloud.</p><p> </p><p>“She had most of us fooled…” Juleka points out quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, she can’t fool anyone any longer,” Marinette states firmly, and as one, the entire class swivels to stare at her.</p><p> </p><p>And then the realization seems to dawn, rippling across them.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God, we thought you hated Lila for no reason,” Rose whispers tremulously, clutching her girlfriend's hand like a lifeline. “B-But she…You…”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know she was helping Hawkmoth,” Marinette says calmly, bluebell eyes surveying them all. “I <em>did</em> know she…she was trying to take advantage of Adrien, though. On top of gaslighting and blackmailing me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, <em>Marinette</em>,” Alya says softly, voice thick with tears, before she was hugging her best friend tightly. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner—”</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the class starts to bombard Marinette as well with apologies. The half-Chinese girl laughs while tears stream down her face, hugging those around her.</p><p> </p><p>“You were right. It’s alright,” Nathaniel whispers in her ear, when it’s his turn to hug her.</p><p> </p><p>“It is,” Marinette replies with a nod and a sniffle. He offers her the handkerchief she’d given him that he never returned, freshly washed, and she takes it with a grateful smile.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Adrien doesn’t go to school for a solid two weeks after the reveal of his father being Hawkmoth. Hell, everyone was worried that he wouldn’t return to Dupont <em>at all</em>. After all that’s happened, it just…seemed unlikely.</p><p> </p><p>But Adrien Agreste comes back.</p><p> </p><p>The first time he walks through the door of Bustier’s Homeroom since his disappearance, he’s bum-rushed in a hug by Marinette and Nino and Alya. Chloe quickly joins in. And then the entire class is hugging him in a group hug while Adrien sobs quietly in their arms.</p><p> </p><p>Adrien has a dead mom, and a father who’s a terrorist stuck in prison for life. He’s pretty much an orphan. He’s lost a lot.</p><p> </p><p>The artist knows that you shouldn’t compare your grief with another’s, you shouldn’t compare your story to see which has the more tragic one. But he feels something settle in him, as he realizes just how badly Adrien’s situation is. Instead of thinking about his own grief, he’s worried about Adrien.</p><p> </p><p>The class untangle from the group hug, quickly cycling through the individual members being able to give their troubled classmate their form of comfort, whether it was through a hug or rubbing his back or a side-hug. Adrien just sobs harder, but he’s giggling too, obviously touched and relieved by their acceptance, their comfort.</p><p> </p><p>When it’s Nathaniel’s turn, the artist hugs the blond tightly and says quietly in his ear, “I’m sorry for your loss.” It just feels <em>right</em> to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Th-thank you,” is Adrien’s tremulous reply, gripping back at Nathaniel’s hoodie. But he sounds sincere. When they part, he shares a tired and almost knowing smile with the redhead.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur—Hawkmoth and Mayura—serve life sentences in two of the most high-security prisons in Europe.</p><p> </p><p>Lila Rossi will serve for forty years in prison, part of her sentence until she’s of-age being spent in a juvenile detention center under heavy guard. She gets to choose between France and Italy to serve her sentence, as a compromise between both countries. Lila chooses Italy, like a dog running away with its tail between its legs.</p><p> </p><p>“Good fucking riddance,” Alix hisses, watching the news with Nathaniel.</p><p> </p><p>The artist can’t agree more.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Life…goes back to normal.</p><p> </p><p>No more Hawkmoth, so there’s no more worry of getting Akumatized any time they feel a negative emotion. No more constantly having to bottle everything up and keep yourself in check all hours of the day, always looking over your shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>The heroes don’t disappear entirely. They keep patrolling. No doubt as a precaution in case one of the supervillains escape, or someone else manages to crop up to stir trouble. But there’s no catastrophe happening every week anymore. And the people of Paris collectively let out a sigh of relief.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone in Nathaniel’s classes are decidedly much less stressed. Like a weight’s collectively lifted off their shoulders, at not having to worry that they’re going to be targeted.</p><p> </p><p>After all, the only ones in Bustier’s Homeroom class that managed to not be Akumatized are Marinette and Adrien. Marinette out of pure luck and a bit of sheer bullheaded charm, and Adrien because of Hawkmoth being his father.</p><p> </p><p>Things in their class are…better.</p><p> </p><p>Marinette looks like she’s actually getting sleep now. Alya is less frantic and willing to put herself in danger, much more casual in her updates of the Ladyblog. Max has finally decided to take a break on programming and advancing Markov’s AI, something he’s been working on non-stop before.</p><p> </p><p>When bickering breaks out, Miss Bustier still jumps in to diffuse things, but she does it with less of a frantic energy and forced cheer than before. Chloe’s also stopped insulting everyone, and even treats Sabrina as more of a friend and less of a slave.</p><p> </p><p>Adrien is…Well, he’s coping. And coping rather well, at that. He was sunshine incarnate before. Now, he’s a bit more muted, but no less brilliant. Like sunshine peaking out from the clouds after a storm.</p><p> </p><p>“My aunt and cousin are coming to stay with me,” he’d told the class, rubbing the back of his neck, a hopeful smile on his face. “I-I know Felix didn’t exactly make a good first impression on you all, but…He’s doing his best to be better.”</p><p> </p><p>“If he’s trying to change, and he apologizes for what he did wrong, we’ll be glad to accept him,” Marinette had decided, and the rest of the class agreed.</p><p> </p><p>Ms. Mendeleiev is back to being strict, but not as taciturn as before. She’s mellowed out considerably, and even calls on Nathaniel occasionally for an answer. Science is still his worst subject, but he can answer the questions correctly and without stuttering, which is a vast improvement compared to last year.</p><p> </p><p>The school year ends without further fanfare, and it’s a relief to everyone in Dupont.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Mayor Bourgeoise arranges for Bustier’s class to stay together during lycee.</p><p> </p><p>It’s…a little crazy. All of them have an instant pass into the best arts lycee in Paris, because of their circumstances. But it makes sense, too. Trauma does that to a class, after all. They’re pretty much inseparable.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a pleasant surprise when Aurore, Mireille, and Jean are added to their class. Though it makes sense. Those three have been Akumatized as well, have survived Dupont just as much as Bustier’s class have.</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel finds himself smiling, waving the nervous-looking trio to sit with him at the back of class.</p><p> </p><p>Everything feels like it’s falling into place.</p><p> </p><p>It feels like hope.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel rifles through his desk, trying to find his set of watercolor paints for a new art project. He knows he keeps them in his desk, but not the exact place. He should probably catalogue and re-arrange his art supplies some day…</p><p> </p><p>His hands freeze as he opens a drawer and sees the abandoned, unfinished comic pages of his last issue. Right…Right, the…The last issue before Marc died…</p><p> </p><p>The artist bites his lip, gently picking up the comic pages like they were priceless manuscripts, artifacts worth millions. To him, they were.</p><p> </p><p>He stares down at the carefully inked pages…and considers.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Three months later, the last official issue of The Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir comic is published. Just in time for the anniversary of Marc’s death.</p><p> </p><p>On the very front page, the forewords message of the issue simply says this:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In loving memory of Marc Anciel, the greatest partner I could ever have. May your love and brilliance live on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>–Nathaniel Kurtzberg</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“<em>Until then,</em></p><p>
  <em>Nothing ends,</em>
</p><p><em>No one is lost</em>.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song used is No One Is Lost by Stars.</p><p>Translation of French lyrics:<br/>“The consequences existing,<br/>Repeat and repeat until it’s May,<br/>No one is left.”</p><p>Marc and his moms die in a car accident, totally by natural causes.<br/>This causes a butterfly effect in which:</p><p>Bustier’s class is affected, since Marc was friends/familiar with a lot of them. The class band together to help Nathaniel grieve</p><p>Marinette realizes people die, and she can’t just use a Lucky Charm to save them if they happen to die outside of an Akuma, like Marc</p><p>Thus, Ladybug is much more willing to stop Akuma and find Hawkmoth</p><p>Which also includes adding more Heroes on the permanent roster to help her and Chat Noir.</p><p>This also means forgiving Chloe and being willing to teach her how to be a Hero as Queen Bee, since they need all the manpower they can get. No Miracle Queen here.</p><p>Adrien also realizes that people die outside of Akuma attacks and can’t be revived by Ladybug</p><p>During this crisis/realization, he ends up theorizing his Mom is dead instead of just suspiciously ‘missing', because of a lack of evidence and his father being tight-lipped</p><p>Thus, Chat Noir is much more serious in his job in stopping Hawkmoth, making less mistakes and not flirting with Ladybug</p><p>These two work together with a team of Heroes, Adrien realizes his father is fishy, and they have a final showdown. Think Heroes Day/Miracle Queen, but everything is in the Heroes’ favor instead of Hawkmoth’s.</p><p>Adrien exposes Lila as well, with the help of Chloe and Marinette, and Lila gets put in a detention center for helping Hawkmoth.</p><p>Hawkmoth is defeated years before canon, and Paris is saved. Marc essentially served as the Equivalent Exchange here. His life for the rest of Paris’ wellbeing.</p><p>#Marc is Jesus Confirmed</p></blockquote></div></div>
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